To Swim In Me

Yours is to frantically tread in the storm of illness you plunged
 
Yours is to paint waves in hopes that your desperate glaze attracts an indifferent sun
 
Yours is to dive deep, to seek to cope as you see those who retreated from being mistreated  
stunned
 
Yours is to flock to who and what's shunned
 
Yours is to provide sometimes sickening funds
when waves wish to crash and rapid water splashes with blood
 
Yours is to be both life of the sea and it's floor  
riddled with mud
 
Yours is no fun
 
Yours is unfavored empty chamber of gun
 
Yours is bullets undone in streaks and tears of a black sky
and yours is mine
 
and when we've both sunk
I'll have finally won